


I'm Sprung

by smilingsarah10



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Broken Bone fic, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of possessive shane, M/M, Mentions of Toys, blink and you miss it kink, rimming and other sexual acts, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilingsarah10/pseuds/smilingsarah10
Summary: Working for Buzzfeed comes with some hazards. Falling for your best-friend is apparently one of them. Ryan breaks his arm, and he and Shane have to share a home and a life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the Unsolved fandom from the writing side. Maybe they are a little OOC and I have definitely taken some creative liberties. This is my first RPF. If you know these people personally, maybe find something else to read. And let me know what you think if you like this fic!
> 
> Love and Peace.

If Shane had been asked about the most dangerous parts of working at Buzzfeed on camera, he would have given an entirely different set of answers than the ones that were running through his head now. It was kind of funny how constantly being in front of the camera rewired your brain that way. 

The first of those personal reasons was getting pulled into videos where the soft pull of internet relevancy made it easy to say yes to doing increasingly dumb things. For instance, you might have to wear a jersey to a basketball game where people who have never wanted to be good at sports (i.e. himself) had to play against people whose lives revolve around sports or specific teams. 

That train of thought and the view of the shortened basketball court in front of him brought him to the next most dangerous part of his job: Ryan. Ryan loved sports, or at least athleticism, and worked out on a regular enough basis that the image of him in one of his _stupid_ jerseys out in the sun was, frankly, rude. This alone would not have been a problem for Shane; he had made it through plenty of jobs where there were attractive people around him including the one he worked specifically with Ryan. 

The root of the problem was that Ryan was more than hot: he was quick-witted, funny, and extremely smart. Shane could have possibly overcome his crush even with factors stacked against him, but they spent all their time together. When they weren’t at work or traveling for Unsolved, they were at Shane’s apartment hanging out and watching movies or going out with coworkers together. The time, proximity, and general Ryan-ness of it all was a strike-out, and Shane was left to harbor what felt like the world’s most massive crush even when Ryan pulled out theories like the Roanoke zombies or Underwater Area 51. He had accepted his helplessness to Ryan, even when it led him like an ouroboros back to dangerous videos like the one he was in at that moment.

He wondered if the camera would pick up his big eyes or his blush when Ryan flexed to show off after a particularly good shot. Would his smile hide or magnify the huge, beastly feelings he kept trapped in his heart and noggin while he was recorded for the whole world to see? He could only ponder those things from the sidelines, at least grateful that his team had benched him so that he wouldn’t have to feel the press of Ryan’s body against him even in the name of sport. He was sure that would have only led to ruin, and it would have been hard to pass of his reactions as those of even a “very close friend”. 

Shane was so tied up in watching the way that Ryan was moving, that he felt almost as if he saw disaster coming before anyone else. He saw the ball leave someone’s hand at a really unfortunate angle. He saw it bounce under Ryan’s feet, and time seemed to slow down as Ryan’s legs kicked out underneath him to hit Steven and send them both sprawling to the ground. There was a sickening sound of skin on court, odd snapping, and the screech of a whistle. 

Shane found himself moving without realizing until he was looming over where Ryan was laying. Ryan’s face was scrunched up in pain, and he seemed unsure where to put pressure: the wrist that he had tried to catch himself on or his shin where Steven had landed with the ball trapped below it. Shane took note of Jen calling 9-1-1, and Adam pulling Steven to the side to assess his injuries before starting to check over Ryan. He started soft, the same voice he used when Ryan looked spooked on set. “Hey, little guy, can you tell me what hurts?”

Ryan looked as if he was in shock, the medical term and the feeling rolled into one. He blinked owlishly at Shane, trying to turn his wrist over and then hissing in pain. “It feels numb until I move. Bruised?” If Shane hadn’t spent years learning to read Ryan like a book, the question at the end might have sounded normal. 

“It might be bruised, but you went ass over kettle, so I wouldn’t be surprised if something a little more serious was going on, bud. Is it just your wrist?” Shane moved Ryan’s wrist to where it could rest at his side. Ryan’s eyes got impossibly wider watching where Shane’s hand landed on his forearm.

“Can you help me stand up?” Ryan finally asked without answering the question. Shane frowned down at him.

“ _Bro_ ,” Shane started, doing his best Ryan impersonation for that moment, “Even I know you’ve gotta rest after a sports injury. And I don’t sport. So I’m just going to assume you knocked your head somehow if you keep avoiding my questions just to ask ones like that.”

Ryan cracked a smile, and the small laugh would have been heaven to Shane’s ears had he not immediately recoiled in pain from one of his muscles clenching to laugh. At Shane’s almost desperate look, Ryan finally murmured, “I think I might have pulled my ankle or something.”

“And you wanted to stand?” 

“I was just trying to see how bad I had hurt myself.  
It’s like research. I have to test it out to see  
how it holds up under scrutiny.”

“Jesus, Ryan, your body is not one of your theories.   
With all the work you put into it, I would think you were more   
self aware than that.”

“Is that what goes on in that massive head of yours?  
Thoughts of me working out?”

“You talk about going to the gym or having gone to the gym   
at least 7 times a second. The stat is that most men think   
about having sex that often, but I guess those wires   
got crossed for you, huh?” 

“Shut up, Shane.  
Don’t think I didn’t notice that lack of denial there.”

Shane should have had something witty to say in response to that, some one-liner to put Ryan at ease and push the conversation back into friendly territory. Luckily for Shane, the ambulance chose that moment to arrive, flashing lights hopefully masquerading his blush. 

The EMT’s asked Ryan the usual questions, loading him onto a bed and strapping him down so that he couldn’t move his leg or arm. They mentioned something about multiple fractures to Shane as he watched Steven get loaded onto a bed as well, but Shane was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than Ryan’s terrified expression. 

When the EMT finished debriefing Shane, he popped his head in the back of the ambulance to try to soothe Ryan’s nerves. Ryan was pale as a ghost, and chuckled when Shane said as much.

“Let me grab the camera! Our viewers have been calling me a demon, but it’s really been you as a ghostie all along!” He exclaimed with a smile bigger than he was feeling. The slight warmth and twinkle returning to Ryan’s face made it worth it. 

“Shane,” Ryan started as the ambulance rumbled and the EMT’s starting loading in, “Could you come with me?”

Ryan’s voice was so much smaller than it usually was. He was trying his best to keep his face neutral, but Shane could tell the effort was slowly slipping away with the amount of pain he was feeling. One glance at the nearest EMT told Shane he wouldn’t be allowed to ride in the ambulance with Ryan and Steven, but there was no way that Shane was going to let Ryan go through this without him, especially since Steven’s version of shock was apparently radio silence.

“Of course, but I’m gonna bring my car so as soon as you get out we can jet home. Boot buddies and berry boys gotta stick together,” Shane squeezed the end of the cot, wanting to comfort Ryan but also not wanting to accidentally squeeze an injury.

As the doors were closing, Ryan also shouted, “Hey, can you also call my mom? And find my phone?”

The doors closed before he could respond to that, but Shane knew that Ryan knew that he would take care of whatever he needed. 

As Shane watched the ambulance drive away, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned towards it to find Adam with Shane’s keys and four gym bags. “I have to go find Andrew and fill him in on what happened. Do you want to go request that we get leave to go to the hospital, and can I ride with you?”

“Sure, do I need to ask for Andrew, too?” Shane didn’t really understand what went on between the Worth It crew, but if it worked for them, he was supportive. 

He loved how happy Adam was especially. The dude had really come out of his shell, speaking full sentences at a time since they started traveling together. 

Adam’s smile looked more like a grimace in this case. “Nah, Andrew needs to stay here. Hospitals and helplessness make him nervous. He can get his head on right, and he can come pick me up when he gets off the clock.”

Shane nodded again before taking his and Ryan’s gym bags from Adam and heading inside. Blessedly, his boss was fine with both of them leaving for the day with very little hubbub.

“I’m a little surprised they didn’t let you in the ambulance,” Shane heard him say as he signed a form for both him and Adam, “Normally the emergency contact is allowed to ride along.” 

“He wanted me to call his mom, but she wasn’t here to ride along obviously,” Shane mumbled, confusion making him slip up in his signature. It was close enough, he figured.

His boss blinked hard pushing the contact paperwork towards Shane so that he could see for himself, and then clarified, “His mom’s number is here, too, but you are his primary emergency contact.”

“Oh,” Shane let out a breath. There, in Ryan’s handwriting, was his name, phone number, and email with the ‘primary contact’ box checked. 

Ryan was also his primary emergency contact (not much his parents could do from Schaumburg), but the gesture on Ryan’s part still knocked the breath out of him. He quickly wrote down Ryan’s mom’s number on a sticky note, pocketing it for when he had a moment to call her. 

He started making a mental list of things he needed to do to make this as easy on Ryan as possible. It was a running list, created from thousands of interactions over time and fine tuned to best help Shane care for Ryan, but the item’s weren’t usually as concrete as they were today. Shane scrapped them all and started new.

_**Item 1: Set Ryan’s voicemail to forward to his cell phone.** Shane had done this every time he or Ryan had gone on vacation for the last few years. For as technology literate as Ryan was, how to work the desk phones escaped his realm of comprehension. It would take Shane all of maybe 2 minutes to do. _

__

__

**Item 2: Gather Ryan’s laptop, editing equipment, and lunch from his desk.** Shane knew that as soon as whatever happened at the hospital stopped, Ryan was going to want something to do. He got bored faster than anyone Shane had ever met, and as soon as the boredom set in, the nervous energy started to spike into paranoia and anxiety.

**Item 3: Call Ryan’s mom to fill her in on what happened.** Shane decided it would be best to call from his phone. He knew Ryan’s passcode and had facetimed his mom with Ryan on multiple sleepaway work trips, but it felt more right to let her have a point of contact who wouldn’t be higher than a kite from pain medicine. 

_**Item 4: Get to the hospital, and do whatever Ryan needed.** Shane had a sneaking suspicion that the damage was worse than Ryan was letting on, and that meant he needed to steel himself to be spending even more time at his side. “As his friend, you weird fuck,” Shane added to himself. _

Shane already had a _thing_ about taking care of people he cared about. In the right situations, one might even call it a kink, but it bled out of his sexual and romantic partnerships into his friendships pretty regularly. Or at least into one particular friendship regularly. Shane was about to spiral into what that might mean when his boss slid the signed paperwork away from him and ripped his thoughts back to the present. 

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too, Shane. Wouldn’t want either of our Unsolved boys out for too long,” he added with a knowing smile as Shane waved his way back to the main office. 

Ryan’s desk was both devoid of personal artifacts and a mess simultaneously. There were papers scattered around with phone numbers (unlabeled, Shane wondered if Ryan just was constantly playing phone roulette when he was fact checking), audio and video equipment, mugs that he wasn’t entirely sure were even from this week, and one little Laker’s paperweight in front of his double monitors. 

Shane didn’t bother with the papers, knowing that he would need more time than he had to organize them, but quickly ran the mugs to the dishwasher in the break room and scooped all of the electronics into Ryan’s bag. Shane had extra chargers for all of the stuff in his drawer, so he grabbed those instead of rooting around through more of Ryan’s stuff. Finally, he set up Ryan’s voicemail to ring through to his cell phone. He hesitated to do the same for his own, not knowing if Ryan would want him to stay and help him or not. He aired on the side of caution and did it anyways. At worst, he could set it back the next day he was in.

Shane finished just in time for Adam to come find him, ready to go. In total, they were about 20 minutes behind the ambulance, but knowing they were going to have to slow down to follow the rules of the road, Shane felt antsy. 

The car ride to the hospital passed quickly and was surprisingly pleasant. Adam made small talk about their respective shows: where they were traveling, what kinds of topics they wanted to cover, and their ridiculous film crews (which Shane did not hesitate to point out that Adam was a ringleader of). The light conversation kept them both out of their heads long enough to make it to the hospital. 

When they pulled in, Adam waited in the car out of solidarity with Shane while Shane called Ryan’s mom. It was a nice gesture although it was ultimately unnecessary. Ryan’s mom immediately recognized Shane from “Ryan’s little show” and took the news well. She said to call again with more details and “when Ryan needed her” after Shane assured her that he would be with Ryan every step of the way.

Ryan’s mom ran with that, and Shane’s ears turned a little red when she started to ask about his relationship status and how well he was going to “take care” of Ryan. Shane hustled off the phone with the excuse that he needed to get going to check on the patient in question. She laughed as she hung up the phone, echoing Ryan’s earlier words, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding the subject. A mother knows.”

With that taken care of and shoved _way_ out of Shane’s thoughts, he and Adam entered the hospital. There was a blur of signing in and being buzzed back before they were split up into separate rooms. Shane breathed a huge sigh of relief when he heard Ryan from outside the room chatting up the nurse. When he stepped in, he took a mental inventory of all of the wires and cords poking and prodding Ryan. The nurse was just finishing up the IV it seemed. 

Ryan tapped his bed to get her attention, “Quick, Nurse Blevins, if you turn around now you’ll catch sight of the rare and elusive Squatch!” 

The nurse turned her head to the doorway, finishing up her work, and coming over to shake Shane’s hand. “You must be Shane. A little birdie told me you would probably be showing up soon.”

Shane grinned. He could appreciate anyone that could pleasantly ignore Ryan’s antics. “And how is our little birdie? Does he still believe he can fly?”

Ryan snorted from the bed, “If i’m not allowed to make cryptid references, you’re not allowed to make Space Jam jokes.”

The nurse rolled her eyes at the both of them. She put Shane in mind of his mom reacting to Shane and Ryan’s banter on the phone: shaking her head as if she could see right through the fragile game they were playing. “Ryan, you can fill Shane in as we wait on the doctor’s decisions. I’m going to be just down the hall. The pain should begin to fade as the drugs hit your system, but if that doesn’t happen or you need me for any reason, the red button beside your bed will call the nurses desk. Please, behave.” 

With that and a curt nod, she was out of the room, leaving them alone. Ryan made a grabby hand with his good hand towards Shane. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not a mind reader. You are going to have to use your big boy words. I know how hard that is for you.”

“Shut up, Shane,” there was always a fondness to his tone when he said that phrase that relaxed Shane’s nerves. “I just need some comfort. Needles are terrifying, and they had a hard time finding my vein. Sue me if I want to hold your hand.”

“I’ll just send you the bill later,” Shane winked, and pulled a chair up so that he could hold Ryan’s good hand and sit comfortably. Ryan squeezed once, as if to feel that Shane’s hand was real and then visibly relaxed. Physical touch was a powerful thing when in the right hands. Shane could only think of his hands as right when they looked so good laced with Ryan’s. 

Ryan cleared his throat but kept his eyes closed. Shane could hear the remaining tension in his voice.

“Steven and I really got tangled up in that fall it seems.  
They made me do some scans and the doctor is looking at  
them now, but it’s sounding like I might have fractured  
my leg and wrist. The doctor said that could mean surgery.”

“I don’t think I want to have surgery.”

“Not sure anyone goes excitedly into surgery, bud.”

“I would hope that the doctors are relatively excited.”

“I’m sure that this is old hat to them. This is probably  
their fourth fracture of the day and the twelfth this  
week. They’re probably begging for something more   
exciting. “

“Maybe you’re right. Next time I get in a basketball  
accident, I will be sure to keep the doctor’s excitement  
levels in mind and try to fall in a way that spices things up.”

“That’s the spirit. Gotta keep the romance alive in the ol’   
operating room. Wouldn’t want your doctors to get bored   
and start working on other patients.” 

The doctor chose that moment to walk into the room, “Unfortunately, boys, there’s not enough doctors to go around these days, so we have to overlap in who we care for. We promise it’s not you, it’s us,” she said, running with the weird place their conversation had taken them, “You must be Shane. Ryan was telling us that you would be here at some point.”

“Like his knight in shining armour,” Shane smiled and shook the doctor’s hand. Ryan made a comment about him being “more like Bigfoot in a Buzzfeed hoodie,” that Shane let slide purely because Ryan slid his hand back into Shane’s as he said it.

“Well, it looks like I was, unfortunately, right. In order to set your wrist and leg we are going to have to go into surgery. You’ll need pins in both since your fractures are not stable, and we will have to move and hold the pieces back in place while they heal,” she held a couple of scans up to the light so that Ryan and Shane could see the extent of the damage in both places as she was speaking. 

“I know you want to get out of here as soon as possible, so it’s fortunate that I have a clear afternoon. We should be able to fit you in within the next hour or so. You’ll be out for the surgery for around 7 hours, in recovery for about a day, and then we can get you on your way as long as you’re back frequently for your PT. What kind of questions do you have for me?” The doctor looked up from her clipboard to see where Ryan’s face had blanched and he was squeezing Shane’s hand with a white-knuckle grip.

“What is the overall recovery time?” Shane started trying to think of all the questions Ryan might want an answer to since his brain was obviously buffering in terror. 

“You’re looking at being out of work for a couple of weeks to two months for the leg and as many as six months of discomfort for the wrist. No rigorous activity and plenty of help around the house until then. After the first few weeks pass, we will do check ins to see how the recovery is going. If you go to your physical therapy and really put work into resting and healing, I’d say that you could be out of major casts in two months. You’ll need to keep a brace or support boot on for closer to half a year. We are hoping to see full strength return in around one calendar year. Everyone heals differently, though, so keep in mind those are broad numbers.”

“What kind of aids will he need during the recovery?”

“It depends. I would recommend a wheelchair to begin with, only because he’s only going to have one arm for crutches, which would be uncomfortable and could cause further injury. We can give them, or a cane, a try later on when his strength is back up. Showering and getting in and out of a seated position is going to be tough. Stairs are a no go. Any type of hand activities are going to be a very painful no go for quite some time. Are you two roommates?” 

Ryan seemed to finally kick back into gear, and he shakily responded, “Nah, I actually live alone…”

Before Shane could make his offer, the doctor continued. “That’s unfortunate. Do you have someone that you could go stay with or call to come stay with you? It is going to be hard for you to do things on your own during the recovery period, and I do mean the WHOLE recovery period. I can already tell you’re the type to try to push yourself. That will only make the healing period longer.”

Ryan froze in Ryan’s own normal way, which meant that he babbled instead of pausing to buffer, “I… I’m not sure, I mean I could go stay with my parents, but they’ve downsized, and I don’t think I have a bed there, and I’ve only got one room, and who wants to live on someone else’s couch for a month, really? And are you SURE this is going to be that bad because my grandpa broke his ribs, and he was fine without even going to the hospital, no offense! And the fractures don’t even look complete other than that little guy that is chipped off… oh, God, is that my bone??”

Shane could tell the doctor was relatively unprepared for Ryan’s word vomit after his extended silence, so when Ryan paused to take a breath, he cut in, “I can come stay with you. Your shitty sectional is better than half the floors we sleep on when we travel anyways. Plus,” Shane flushed, sheepish, remembering his conversation with Ryan’s mom, “I told your mom I’d be there every step of the way. I meant it.” 

Ryan seemed to be searching for something in his face that he couldn’t find, he looked at Shane for so long. Finally, the doctor broke the moment by telling Ryan the steps they were about to take and what he could expect for the rest of his time in the hospital. Every so often, he would squeeze Shane’s hand, and Shane would squeeze back. When the doctor was done speaking, she excused herself from the room, reminding them that a nurse would be in shortly. 

Once she stepped out, Shane couldn’t bring himself to break the silence. If he was in Ryan’s shoes, he would need a minute to catch up. They let the silence drag out until Ryan finally looked at Shane and broke it, “You sure that you wanna do this?”

There was more weight to the words than Shane thought Ryan could have actually been imbuing them with. Shane tried to spin it into a joke, “You know I’ve always thought that I had so much in common with Mother Theresa, and she didn’t even have a sectional to sleep on. I think this will be a breeze.”

Ryan’s lips quirked into a grin, but he didn’t rise to the bit. “I’m serious, Shane. This is going to mean us spending more time together than we even do now potentially for MONTHS. We don’t know how long you might have to stay with me or how many sides of me that you’re going to have to see. I… I don’t want to fuck it all up just cause I can be a dick when I’m scared or in pain.”

Shane wished there was a way to say, _“I would do this a hundred times over just to be with you,”_ or _“You act as if I’m not already constantly orbiting around you like you’re my sun,”_ or even _“I want to bone down… with feelings!”_ without sounding like a twitterpated idiot. He shuffled those thoughts to the side. 

“Ry,” he internally winced at how lovestruck even that sounded, “Regardless of the physical or metaphorical dicks that might be revealed, I’m in it with you. Whatever you need, no matter how big or small, I’m your guy for as long as you’ll have me. Besides, I don’t want to face your mom’s wrath if I back down now.”

“Unflappable unless there’s a mom’s feelings on the line, huh?” Ryan joked, avoiding what Shane considered to be the more funny part of his statement, “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been able to stop you,” Shane answered, joking and honest at the same time. 

“They are going to put me under, Shane, and I’m fuckin’ terrified. Maybe that makes me a baby, but I don’t like the idea of possibly not ever waking up. Seven hours under heavy anesthesia is right up there around the demon episodes every season for me. Don’t laugh at this, but when you’re here,” Ryan jostled their hands, and Shane squeezed to show he was listening, “I don’t feel as afraid. In both cases. Demons and drugs. So would you promise to be here when I wake up? Will you stay until we can leave?” 

Ryan’s hands were trembling as he asked. This wasn’t the same fear that they dealt with on a shoot, although Shane appreciated Ryan making the connection; this felt more genuine and vulnerable and more than a friendly admission. Shane tried to reason that it was the hospital setting that were firing off his nerves, and not just Ryan needing him and asking him to stay.

Shane could feel the tightrope he was walking, trying to balance his feelings for Ryan with the easy friendship they had always shared, and he felt almost as if his response could only tip him in one direction or the other. Something was shifting the rope under his feet, and there was nowhere to go but to fall to one side or the other.

“You’re not a baby, Ry. You are so brave, in here cracking jokes and smiling right before surgery. I can see how much the nurses love working with you, and I have only been here thirty minutes. When you wake up, I will be right here with two overnight bags, your video equipment, and maybe even a treat if I can find one. And I will stay as long as you want me to,” Shane figured that was enough emotional honesty, “Besides, someone has to film what you say when you are drugged off your ass. Our fans will want to know why their favorite ghoulboy is in, not one, but two casts, and I’m the hero they don’t know they needed.”

Shane stayed with Ryan, trying to help him laugh and relax until it was time to go under, and the nurses (lovingly) kicked him out. If they stayed holding hands, and if Shane’s thumb stroked soothingly over Ryan’s wrist until then, neither of them mentioned it. 


	2. Chapter 2

Shane left the hospital with edits made to his mental list. He had a few hours at least before Ryan would be out of surgery and in his room, which left him plenty of time to run around and panic where Ryan couldn’t see him. 

_**Item 1: Go to Shane’s apartment and pack everything he might need for the next week at least.** He wasn’t very high maintenance, but he did like to be cozy, and that required a certain base-level of items that he doubted Ryan had at home. _

__

__

_**Item 2: Go to Ryan’s to pack a go bag.** Shane had his own key to Ryan’s place mainly because Ryan was paranoid that he was going to leave his keys on location when they traveled and wanted Shane to be able to let him in, just in case. They didn’t spend a lot of time at Ryan’s apartment since Ryan hardly spent any time at his apartment, but Shane was grateful now to have it. _

Shane considered switching items 1 and 2, realizing that he had no idea what Ryan had at home and did not have at home. Ryan almost always insisted on hanging out at Shane’s place. Shane had been no further than the foyer since he had helped Ryan move into the place a year and a half ago. 

It didn’t take long to pull up in front of Ryan’s apartment even though it was further from the hospital than Shane’s. The key turned in the lock, and Shane let himself in. The apartment was disappointingly bare for a place where Ryan had lived for so long. He had a coat closet that was mostly empty except for a couple of jackets and some running shoes right beside the front door. The apartment was open concept which meant that the main rooms (kitchen, dining, and living) all blurred together with minimal or half walls while a bedroom sat off a small hallway. 

There were very few personal touches around: very few pictures or art of any type, the minimum amount of furniture with a giant sectional taking up the majority of space (going so far as to be in the kitchen), and hardly any standing decorations. Morbidly curious, Shane made his way through the fridge and the kitchen cabinets, finding a huge thing of protein powder, a frankly ridiculous amount of soymilk, nuts, frozen bananas, peanut butter, and coffee; and that was it as far as anything with nutritional value. 

Sighing, Shane continued his way to the bedroom to start grabbing Ryan’s stuff. The bed was unmade, and, although there were at least two laundry baskets scattered throughout the space, there were clothes at varying states of cleanliness all over the floor. The dresser drawers were pulled open haphazardly, spewing their contents as if they had a rough night before. The bed was, surprisingly, about the size of Shane’s and looked new. Shane certainly hadn’t remembered moving it in. The sheets on it were rumpled, and Shane knew that if the clothes hadn’t been washed, the sheets were probably suffering as well. 

“It’s not a wonder Ryan stays so stressed and high strung,” Shane said out loud to no one, “Considering that one of the leading causes of stress is environment.”

Shane made a list of all the things that he had at home that he would need to bring here to make this work for both of them while he started sorting Ryan’s laundry into the bins he had found. He also went into the bathroom to grab Ryan’s _one_ towel and _one_ washcloth that he apparently owned to make sure they were clean as well. The first priority was Ryan’s sheets, but Shane could take all of the fabric by the laundromat that he went to and just pick everything up when he needed to go back to the hospital. 

Finally, he repacked a bag for Ryan, choosing some shorts from in a drawer and one of Ryan’s favorite jerseys from it’s spot of honor in his closet. He grabbed some spandex-y things that could pass for briefs since there was no clean underwear in sight, and made sure to grab some sandals and loafers so Ryan had a choice for what he wanted to wear. 

His favorite laundry attendant was at the laundromat when Shane rolled in with more laundry than he had ever shown up with in his life. Luckily, given the odd hour of the day and the location, she had plenty of washers and dryers open. Shane opted out of the folding service, promising to be back in time to load the clean dry laundry into his car, and continued home. 

It didn’t take him long to collect the things he needed, but when he got everything by the door, he ran through his thoughts one more time so that he could lock up and not have to come back within the next week.

Go Bag and a more permanent arsenal of clothing? _Check_  
Perishable groceries, spices, and various pots and pans? _Check_  
Cleaning supplies including his handheld vacuum? _Check_  
Extra towels and sheets? _Check_  
His favorite pillow? _Check_  
Throw pillows and blankets? _Check_  
His real plants? _Check_  
Toiletries? _Check_

When Shane finally started carrying things out to his car, he realized how ridiculous this might look to anyone who might walk by. He ended up having help from one of his neighbors who was concerned that he was moving. Somehow he ended up with a lasagna after explaining the situation, and a well meaning, “Hope your boyfriend heals up real quick!” 

Again, he decided to let that slide right out of his thoughts among the other things that he had to think about. He checked his watch. He still had plenty of time before he needed to go back by the hospital, so he decided to drive back by Ryan’s apartment to settle in. 

Moving into Ryan’s space shouldn’t have felt as easy as it was, but where Ryan had barely moved in, it felt as if Shane was working with a blank slate. Shane rearranged the living room to get the sectional out of the kitchen, throwing the throw pillows and blankets across the back and corners of the cushions to make it more home like. He put his plants on either side of the entertainment system, making sure to dust it and the coffee table down in the process. He checked twice that the new layout would accommodate a wheelchair in case Ryan chose to use one.

He put new sheets on the bed, and, even without the comforter, felt better about bringing Ryan back into the space. Ryan deserved a soft, warm home to live in that reflected his soft, warm smile and the way he relaxed when it felt like nobody but Shane was watching him. Shane’s thoughts started to drift to other things that he could do to help Ryan relax, that Ryan deserved… but Shane yanked back from them, embarrassed even though they were hidden in the confines of his brain. His towels and toiletries found a folded home on the empty over the toilet shelf beside the shower before Shane splashed cold water onto his face and neck. 

Right before he could appreciate the feeling of a job well done, his alarm was going off on his phone signalling that it was time to book it back to the laundromat. His favorite attendant saddled up beside him to help him fold all the laundry even though Shane had insisted she didn’t have to. 

They chatted for a bit: she watched his shows on youtube and always asked after Ryan. Shane explained that it was Ryan’s laundry that they were currently folding and about his fall. She smirked, in a way that Shane refused to say was “knowingly” and commented on how sweet it was that he’d be willing to do that for his co-host.

“Eh,” Shane sighed, “He would do it for me, too.”

Like the cat that caught the canary, she grinned, “Of course. What kind of ghoulfriend would he be if it wasn’t reciprocal?”

Shane groaned, letting his knees fake buckle to drive home how bad the pun was, “Et tu, Brutus?”

They finished quickly, with much less jokes about Ryan and Shane’s _relationship_. Even with the time that it took to drive back to Ryan’s place, put away the laundry, and pace from one end to the other a few times, Shane had an hour or so before he was expected back at the hospital. He decided that waiting at home, well, Ryan’s home, wasn’t doing him any good, and that he could pace harder in the waiting room actually in the hospital so he would be there if anything had changed.

He pulled in to the parking lot on Andrew’s tail, giving them the opportunity to chat on the way in. They would all be relegated to the waiting room until the nurses called for them anyways, which was affecting each of them differently. 

While Adam paced across the waiting room, having been stuck the longest and getting antsy, Andrew filled Shane in on what he knew about Steven. Steven had landed hard on his chest, twisting to try to catch himself but instead slamming his shoulder into the court. His doctor had called for surgery for his fractured shoulder blade, and he had some pretty gnarly bruising around a broken rib as well. 

It didn’t take long for them to all grow silent, then it was as if the gates had dropped at the races. Andrew, Shane, and Adam all paced at different strides around the weirdly empty waiting room. Shane was almost sure the nurses had a bet going on who would get to 100 laps first. Adam had a head start, but Andrew was apparently a power walker, and Shane could cover more distance per stride than the other two, so they were all pretty evenly matched. 

After a pointed look from the receptionist when Shane vaulted over a chair to pass Andrew on a corner, they settled in to a monotony of phone games. Adam had just obliterated them at Yatzee for the second time when Nurse Blevins finally stepped out of the door. Shane shot to his feet before she could call for him, nerves finally eating away at his resolve. 

“We just got him out of surgery and back into a resting room. He did so well; they managed to get everything back into place and casted. He’s going to be out of it for the next few hours. We will need to keep monitoring him, but he requested you be allowed in the room, so you are welcome to stay,” she filled him in as they were walking. 

She let him into Ryan’s room, and then left him be. Ryan looked pale and small compared to the giant casts on his left leg and right arm. Shane slid a chair up closer to the bed and continued the wait for Ryan to wake back up.

To save his phone’s battery, he picked up one of the physical books he brought with him. It was about ghost stories across the nation: a topic he wasn’t interested in, but wanted to be knowledgeable about since Ryan would probably need help planning Unsolved in the next month or so. 

Shane was only about a chapter in when he looked up and made eye contact with a very awake, but very quiet Ryan. Shane gently reached out his hand, “There you are! Welcome back to reality, Ry. Want me to call a nurse?”

Ryan blinked slower than was normal, ending up shutting his eyes again, and speaking in a slurred, almost muffled voice, “This isn’ real. You wouldn’ be readin’ a... ghostie book, and you look like you’ve got fuckin’ yaoi hands. ’m still snoozin.” 

Shane wished he had been recording that. Maybe he should have set up the camera instead of reading. Then again, if he hadn’t been reading, Ryan wouldn’t have said that. What a gentleman's conundrum. 

“I promise that you’re awake and that it’s me, Mr. Proportional Hands in the flesh, and you know I’d rather you be telling me about these ‘ghosties’ instead of reading about them, but you’re sleeping on the job.”

Ryan cracked open an eye as if to confirm what Shane was saying. Seeming to realize that the Shane in front of him WAS real, he took Shane’s outstretched hand, giving it a squeeze. He tried to clear his throat. It sounded awful, but helped clear his voice. “I like your ridiculous proportions, you know? I think about them a lot.”

Shane felt the air rush out of his lungs in a whoosh. Ryan thought about Shane’s… proportions? A lot? Shane desperately tried to climb back on the one rational island in his thoughts that was telling him he couldn’t hold Ryan to anything he was saying now. Some people hallucinated while under anesthesia, maybe Ryan flirted. 

Even with still semi-glazed eyes, Ryan was full on smirking now, as if he knew exactly what his words were doing to Shane, “Do you want to hear what I think about, Shane? You know I would tell you if you asked…”

Shane was saved from having to answer that when a nurse that was not Nurse Blevins bustled in to talk to a mostly awake Ryan. He still wasn’t exceptionally coherent, losing track of his sentences halfway through them and having to be prompted back on track, but he got through the conversation well enough. Shane noticed that he didn’t flirt with the nurse even once throughout the conversation. He wondered if it was out of respect for her position or if it had just been a Shane thing? Finally, Nurse Blevins came back in to talk to them both about recovery and finding a physical therapist. 

“The great news is that the rod went into Ryan’s tibial shaft just fine, so that should straighten up nicely. His wrist wasn’t as damaged as expected based on the scans, which is good news for your recovery time. You’d much rather it be closer to six months than a year. You’ll need to come in for physical therapy three times a week for the next few weeks, and check ups once a week separate from the therapy. We can schedule those at the desk when you’re released tomorrow,” she stopped, noting the tears on Ryan’s face all of the sudden.

“The doctor prescribed a stronger pain medicine for the first two weeks, but after you should be safe to make the switch to an ibuprofen of your choice and only use the prescribed in case of emergency. You’ll want to watch out for aggressive or unusual swelling, discolorations, or pain and make sure to report that when you visit. Any questions Ryan? Do you need anything right now?”

Ryan shook his head no, and Nurse Blevins informed them that she would be off shift in an hour, but she hoped they had a wonderful night. Ryan nodded, tears still tracking over his cheeks. When the door closed behind Nurse Blevins, Shane cautiously wiped the tears from Ryan’s face. “Oh, Ryan. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Ryan shook his head again, before breaking out into sobs. Before Shane could call the nurse back, Ryan was saying words again, “Didn’t you… didn’t you hear her? They put a rod in my shaft to make me _straight_ ,” his voice broke on the last word. Shane had to really rein it in to not laugh at Ryan’s confusion when he knew he couldn’t help it. Ryan continued crying and clutching at Shane’s wrist and arm with his good hand, “I don’t wanna be straight. I did that already. They were just supposed to fix my leg! My dick didn’t need fixing…”

Shane didn’t think that Ryan had meant to come out to him like this, but he was also sure that Ryan wouldn’t remember this in a few hours and had dropped hints about having experience with guys into casual conversations recently, so he put on his best reassuring voice instead of his teasing voice. “Ry, they DID just fix your leg. Well, and your wrist, but they put a rod in your leg bone, your TIBIAL shaft so that they could make sure all the other bones heal correctly. Nobody can force you to be straight by surgery or otherwise.” 

“You promise?” Ryan asked, flipping between looking confusedly at his cast and hopefully into Shane’s face. 

‘God, if he’s going to act this cute, I’m fucked,’ Shane thought to himself while verbally continuing to reassure Ryan that he could be as bi or pan or gay or whatever as he wanted to be. 

“Good,” Ryan finally settled back, seemingly tired again now that he was no longer crying and having a crisis of sexuality, “cause I really like you.”

Shane blushed, trying to figure out how Ryan had the upper hand even when he was mentally compromised by drugs. “I really like you, too, Ry. Get some good rest.”

“Will you be here when I wake up again?” he asked nervously, punctuated by a yawn.

Shane wasn’t sure Ryan was even awake for his reassurance, but he said it anyways. Ryan surprised him with another hand squeeze. Shane couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand away after. He might wake up at the first nurses check in with a crick in his neck (and back and arms) from falling asleep with his head tipped forward onto Ryan’s cot, but that was all small beans compared to the sunshine that was Ryan’s smile when he woke up with their hands still clasped. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan only remembered little snapshots of his first month home. Shane had wheeled him out of the hospital while Ryan facetimed his mom. She wouldn’t tell him what he had said, if it was embarrassing or revealing or just dumb. Shane didn’t talk about it either, saying something about what happens under anesthesia stays under anesthesia, which was rich coming from someone who had promised Ryan that he would video tape it all. 

If he thought hard about it, Ryan could get little snippets to replay like an old video projector that had broken segments of film. 

_He remembered his tears falling, embarrassment dripping off of him like the water from the shower he had tried to take. It was so dark, Ryan wasn’t sure what part of the night it was, but Shane had found him sitting on the toilet, unable to figure out the best way to get bags around his casts after remembering he couldn’t get them wet after he had already shuffled into the shower. His left hand was basically useless, the pain medicine was wearing off, he was wet and cold, and something inside him had convinced him that Shane was going to laugh at him or scold him. Instead, Shane had taken a towel and draped it over Ryan’s lap, handed him his medication to take, and filled the sink with hot soapy water. In short commands, he had Ryan lean this way and that, cleaning him with a soft washcloth. The medicine lulled Ryan back into a soft sleep. When he woke back up he was in his sleep shorts in bed, wondering if it had been a dream…_

__

__

He remembered Shane getting up to check on him every couple hours like clockwork, peeking his head in Ryan’s door, sometimes to ask what he needed, sometimes to bring him food, water, or medicine, and sometimes just to observe Ryan safe and resting. After the third day and night of him doing this, Ryan had hobbled his way out to the living room with an ultimatum: either Shane just shared the bed with him so that Shane didn’t have to keep getting up, or Ryan was coming out and sleeping on the sectional. Ryan remembered Shane trying to protest: something about Ryan’s boundaries and the pain medicine, but that just caused Ryan to cry which led to Shane joining him in the bed, just like when they went on location except better because Ryan could hold his hand and focus on his snores to help him sleep without as much pain medicine…

_He vaguely remembered Shane asking him questions: what he was feeling like eating or wearing or watching. Ryan remembered feeling like his brain was moving infinitely slower than Shane’s and crying again because he didn’t know what he wanted or didn’t want. He remembered telling Shane that he felt helpless and useless and asked Shane if he could just… make those decisions for Ryan. He remembered Shane freezing, but then soothing Ryan back to rest. From then on, he would tell Ryan what he made for a meal so that Ryan could veto things he didn’t want. Shane would bring him comfortable clothes that Ryan wasn’t always sure who they belonged to. He would usher Ryan into the living room, fretting over elevating his injuries before picking something for them to watch to wind down, and through all his actions, Ryan could feel his mind quiet down into something more manageable…_

Shane had helped wean Ryan’s medicine consumption back to a more reasonable amount: less prescription and more over the counter. Each day helped start clearing out the fog in his brain. By the end of week three, he was only taking the prescription as needed and was down to a more normal amount of the regular stuff which was right on track with what the nurses wanted. 

The clear head was a blessing and a curse. Ryan could see that Shane had taken all of his work from home and had been essentially running Ryan’s household and affairs in the time he’d been laid up. The non-drugged up Ryan was a little ashamed. Shane insisted that he was fine, did not feel burdened, and had plenty of space, but Ryan felt like he was monopolizing his time and talent. He finally confronted Shane about it after he heard him talk to their boss on the phone about how he’d like one more week of working from home. 

“I don’t want you to get in trouble on my behalf, and other than grocery runs and taking me to PT, you haven’t been out of this house,” Ryan had tried to say, “Don’t you miss socializing? The outside world? I may be stuck here, but you don’t have to be, you know?” 

Shane had scrunched his nose up as if he smelled something foul. “Ryan, do _you_ want space? I am perfectly content to hang around here. I have skype to talk to mom and dad when necessary, social media and well wishes from our coworkers, and have not changed who I spend the majority of my time with.”

Ryan blinked. He hadn’t really thought about the amount of time he had spent with Shane pre-fall being similar to the amount of time they spent together now. The only thing different was that now they shared a bed and an increasingly personal life since Ryan still sometimes struggled with how to wash himself and get dressed on his own. “I like having you here. I’m really grateful for all that you’ve done… I just don’t want to be a burden.”

Shane patted his cast. “You of all people should know that I would be very vocal the moment I felt burdened. You have met me at least once or twice,” Shane paused for Ryan to slip in a ‘Shut up, Shane’ before continuing, “But I do think maybe some socialization would be good for you. When I go back to the office next week, we can start cycling some fresh faces in here for you to hang out with while I’m gone.” 

And that had settled the matter. Over the weekend, a shower bench and other aids had shown up to help Ryan gain back some of his autonomy around the house. “Just in case you need to shower when I’m not here, you know?” Shane had blushed while he told him. Ryan had noticed him doing that more and more recently: blushing and tripping over his words when Ryan caught him being nice. 

Ryan thought it was cute that Shane could be stoic and in the zone when it came to seeing Ryan mostly naked to help him in and out of the shower or bathroom or bed, but got flustered when Ryan said thank you for a meal or a gift. Ryan wondered if maybe the help was just out of a sense of duty and the gifts were too close to them being more than ‘good pals’ that it was making Shane uncomfortable. Ryan worried often about whether this was too much for Shane in general. Neither of them had ever pushed to be more than friends, ad Ryan felt as if maybe with Shane not reacting to what Ryan considered flirting that he had missed his shot. 

Talking to Shane about it seemed dumb and scary, so Ryan just waited to see what Shane meant by “company” that week. When he was out of the house, it might be easier to vocalize his thoughts. The first set of guests were, not surprisingly, Steven and Adam. It made sense to Ryan: who else is going to be on almost the exact same schedule that he was? Steven looked pitiful still in his sleeve to keep his upper body immobilized, but was excited to be out of his apartment. 

“If I had to play one more board game, I was going to lose my mind,” he whispered to Ryan when they were alone on the couch out of sight from Adam, “ Just because I can’t move my upper body doesn’t mean I have a sudden interest in 1000 piece puzzles. The worst one was a “Murder She Wrote” mystery game where you had to solve the puzzle to solve the mystery. But Andrew had gotten it out of the prop closet so the section with the mystery answer? Completely missing.”

Ryan cringed. That did sound kind of unappealing. “They’re just trying to take care of you, right? Shane said they had looked really scared for your well-being.”

Steven rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. They just hover. Speaking of Shane, how are you all doing here? I noticed that his suitcase had made its way to your room.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of my fault. You know the pain medicine high? I insisted that he sleep in the same room as me or I was just going to park myself on the couch with him instead. I think I was worried about him getting enough sleep since he spent half the night up and checking on me anyways,” Steven laughed at Ryan’s shrug.

“As if that would be an imposition for him. You both are CONSTANTLY flirting. You just call it banter or a bit instead of acknowledging it.”

“That’s not what those…” Ryan couldn’t even finish the sentence before Steven was shooting him a look, so he changed courses, “Regardless of that, do you really think he’d be interested in being more than friends?” 

Adam chose that moment to re-enter the room. “Are you talking about Shane?”

Steven answered for Ryan, “Yeah, they’re sharing a bed, and Ryan’s worried that means that Shane wants to be just friends.” Ryan thought that the quotation gesture Steven used around the words ‘just friends’ was unnecessary.

“Just friends could _just_ share a bed, but the best way to find out how Shane is feeling is to… _just_ ask him,” Adam said in a frustratingly reasonable way. Ryan groaned while Steven laughed, used to how straightforward Adam is. “Now,” he continued with a smile, “Who’s ready for a fun day of puzzles?”

Ryan enjoyed his week with Steven and Adam or Andrew, once even getting to go over to their place instead of his, but his favorite moments were when Shane came home from the office. He still had one more doctors appointment to clear him for work from home, but Shane was humoring him by giving him small things to do to ease his boredom. There was one unspoken rule, and it was that Ryan had to be resting while he pointed out places to edit to Shane. 

Shane was adamant and creative in how he enforced the “relaxation rule” around the house. He would sit for hours doodling on Ryan’s casts, making up stories and making Ryan laugh just to keep him still and propped up. In one moment of blinding rose-colored glasses, Ryan admitted out loud that if Shane just drew out the Hot Daga, it might be a little less of a monstrosity. Shane had proceeded to draw cartoon hot dogs on the back of Ryan’s cast while cackling. 

The last weekend before he was cleared to go back to work was the hardest. Ryan was fidgety and wished that he could pace around the house. Sometimes Shane would let him hobble around; the doctor had mentioned some exercise was important and Shane had conceded, but Ryan couldn’t just pace aimlessly like he used to.

Shane had propped him up so that he could watch Shane make their grab and go lunches and prep Ryan’s protein shakes for the week. Shane had turned his nose up at the shakes at first, but when Ryan had explained the nutritional value (and the value of having some sense of normalcy), Shane had folded like a deck of cards and made sure to bring him a coffee and shake every morning. 

Ryan kept under “tight lock” exactly how he felt about sleep-rumpled morning Shane, but made sure that he was awake to get his fill every morning, which was turning into its own kind of torture. Every morning was like a test to see if Ryan could control his impulse to either smooth down his hair when it was sticking up all over the place or ruck it up when it had flopped down in his eyes. Instead he just imagined doing it, and came up with excuses when Shane shot him a look to let him know how not subtle he was. 

That morning, he had mixed things up from his usual pajamas and was bustling around the kitchen in his Cardio Barre tank top from their TestFriends days and some sweatpants. Ryan had done a million and a half workouts with Shane, and had seen him sweaty and laughing in almost that exact outfit, but for some reason, Ryan found himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Shane’s eyes crinkled in the corners even more when he laughed in the mornings, and his glasses only worked to finish the look. With the pain medicine and the pain, Ryan hadn’t found himself thinking about sex or getting off in a long time, but that morning those feelings had come back with a vengeance and in full force. 

“Ry, you really gotta try not to squirm so much. You are so close to potentially getting out of those casts and into the braces instead. Don’t you want to be less trapped?” Shane talked while bustling around the kitchen seemingly (thankfully) oblivious to Ryan’s pants problem. 

Ryan tried to use his left hand to adjust himself so it wasn’t quite so obvious while responding, “You try having an _itch_ you can’t _scratch_ for almost two months and tell me how patient you are!” 

That was apparently not the right thing to say since it brought Shane and his attention closer to Ryan. “Are you alright? Cast’s not too tight is it? If it’s just itching, I can grab the hairdryer again.” Shane had read somewhere online that the best way to stop itching under a plaster cast was to hit it with a cold blast from a hair-dryer. Ryan didn’t really feel like it had helped, but appreciated Shane braving the Ladylike stage to borrow one nonetheless. 

Shane was casually lifting Ryan’s leg and wrist to check for irritation, and Ryan would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t had to bite back a gasp from where his dick got jostled from where it had been tucked up against his leg as Shane lifted the cast at the thigh to do a perfunctory check. Shane took the noise and blush as pain and went into “fix it” mode.

“Shane, I’m fine, calm down. No need to sound the alarm. I’m just bored and tired of sitting all the time, you know?” Ryan tried to soothe Shane before he could jump into action. “Can you just narrate what you’re doing while you do it in there? That might give me something else to focus on.” Ryan left the “other than my dick” off the end of the sentence. 

“Sure! I always wanted to be in the Tasty videos, so this will be good practice for that,” he joked before jumping into the intricacies of balanced make-ahead meals. Ryan loved listening to the cadence of Shane’s voice. Where Ryan’s narrating voice was a point of conversation among their fans, Ryan felt as if they were sleeping on Shane’s storytelling voice. It was expressive, but soft, exactly the tone that Ryan could listen to for hours and hours.

It wasn’t just the tone that really got to Ryan. Shane also had this way of including him in conversations where it felt as if they were a team that was in on an inside joke. Every little piece of knowledge felt like something they shared together against the world. Even the little jabs that they threw felt intimate to them in their own way. 

“POP QUIZ!” Shane flipped around from where he had been sliding food into tupperware to smirk at Ryan. Ryan knew he was probably in trouble and hoped that his half listening was enough to get him off his case, “What can happen to you if you do not get enough citrus intake?”

“Um, that’s a broad one. Scurvy?” Ryan guessed. 

Shane’s smirk bloomed into a smile. “Look at you, Ry. Did you learn that from one of your pirate books?”

Shane turned back to their lunches as Ryan explained that a guy in one of the fraternities in his undergrad had actually gotten scurvy once and that was how he knew about it. Shane asked prompting questions and laughed exactly where Ryan was expecting him to, interjecting little tidbits about what he was doing when Ryan paused in the story just to continue acknowledging Ryan’s earlier request.

It felt so domestic, Ryan could burst. He had come to love these morning moments; with a sickening twist of his gut, Ryan realized that they were more than likely a timed luxury. It was bizarre to feel turned on by the sight in front of him: Shane and his dumb hands and dumb long legs and dumb hair and dumb back muscles working in the kitchen without a clue to Ryan’s _want_ while also being so sad that he couldn’t have this forever unless he wanted to risk screwing it all up.

Ryan let them go about their day, leaning into the domesticity more than he normally would, trying to enjoy the moments while they lasted. Shane must have sensed that things had shifted again, because he rolled with Ryan’s neediness without too much ribbing. Ryan pretended as if they could stay in this bubble forever. 

The bubble was short lived, however, as Ryan got the joyful news the next day at his doctor’s appointment that he was all set to transition from casts to braces. The braces reminded him a bit of a strappy leather boot and glove, but he was still delighted that they would be able to be removed briefly for his showers. He still needed to limit the activity he was doing outside of his PT exercises, but the doctors were hopeful at the two month mark, and he was cleared to return part-time to work.

Shane fussed over him all the next morning: re-doodling on his new brace so that it wasn’t a stark white color, making sure that Shane carried his bag so that Ryan could focus on using the cane Shane had got to help him keep pressure off his leg, insisting on opening doors and pulling out chairs and fluffing pillows for Ryan, and then running to get whatever he needed around the office when they got there to make sure Ryan was comfortable. 

And Ryan was more than comfortable. Shane had apparently spent a good deal of time getting Ryan’s desk clean and organized. He had even redecorated a little with a picture of Ryan and Shane that they used in the Unsolved outros, a signed postcard featuring Pam from the HD, and a little rolodex that Ryan could store phone numbers and note cards in. There was also a new chair that looked a little bigger and more comfortable than the one Ryan had before. The desk was covered in get well cards and trinkets. Shane must have actually put some planning into Ryan’s return.

Ryan wanted to be mad about it, but it was so Shane and so thoughtful and exactly what Ryan needed once he realized how overwhelming being back at the office was. In his and Shane’s “nest,” as the gossip around the office had nicknamed Ryan’s apartment, it had been relatively quiet with few people or things vying for Ryan’s attention. 

Here, everyone was so excited to see him back that they were giving him none of the space he had previously had. With Shane away, getting stuff to help Ryan get his work done, Ryan was feeling a little unmoored. It wasn’t very long until he hit his social wall. He thought he might scream if everyone didn’t disperse that moment. 

Ryan was about to say as much when he felt Shane’s hand land soothingly on his shoulder. “As much as you all have missed seeing this short mug around the waterhole, he’s got a meeting to get to. Don’t make him use that cane to clear you out; he’s got scary good aim with that thing. You see these bruises on my ankles?” Shane showed off bruises that Ryan knew for a fact were from him walking into his bed frame and not from Ryan’s cane, but appreciated the way the crowd laughed, cutting the tension before thinning out significantly, just leaving Curly and their desk-mates lingering around. 

Curly had seen through Shane’s ruse easily. “You don’t have a meeting, you _liar_ ,” he said in a sing song voice, pulling a chair up beside where Ryan’s leg was propped up so that he could sign Ryan’s brace without drawing the crowd back over to see why they hadn’t actually moved for their meeting. Shane only smiled, settling back into his seat on the other side of the desk and putting on his headphones, apparently content to relax into his work now that Ryan was a little calmer.

Curly doodled a little bit beside where he had signed his name, giving Shane enough time to get enthralled in his work. They could hear tinny sounds leaking out from his headphones, which was normally a sign that he was really focusing.

“Soooo,” Curly leaned in close, “Does he have a _‘matching’_...”

“Curly!” Ryan spit out his drink, drawing Shane’s eyes back to him with a quirked eyebrow, asking Ryan if he was alright without disengaging completely from his work. Ryan waved him back, thankful that he probably hadn’t heard Curly’s leading question. 

“Maybe I was asking about his pajamas. You’re so dramatic, Ryan,” Curly laughed at his blush. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve spent two months together and haven’t inspected the goods at least once? Or had a steamy revelation of feelings?”

Curly sighed at Ryan’s silence. “Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. What are you waiting for?”

“I don’t want to mess everything up. Can’t I just enjoy it while I have it?” Ryan grumbled.

“I didn’t take you for a coward or a quitter. And messing everything up? Are you blind? That boy wants you more than you want to prove that the supernatural is real and out there. You should have seen his moony ass all last week. He kept checking his phone, asking Andrew or Adam if they had heard from whoever was hanging out with you to make sure everything was going alright. You know I called him out on it. Poor thing blushed down to his ankles.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” Ryan pulled his wrist away to check out the doodle Curly had done on it. He was going to comment on how cute it was when he noticed that he had added little pink hearts around where Shane had signed his name. Then he just gave him a level look. Not that Curly had any shame about it based off of his face.

“I _want_ you to ask him on a date. And then you can thank me later when you finally get the dicking down that you deserve,” Curly moved out of the way before Ryan could swat him with his good hand, grin permanently affixed to his face. 

Ryan used his cane to stand up shakily. Shane and Curly jumped to their feet at the same time, rushing through questions to ask if he was alright and if they could get something for him. Ryan took a breath before plastering a smile on his face. “Curly was just going to walk me around the office.”

Shane frowned, looking suspiciously between the two of them. “Is that a good idea? We haven’t even been here more than an hour or so. Even with the braces, you’re supposed to be resting…” 

Ryan tried his best to reassure Shane with a smile. “I’m not gonna sprint away, big guy. Just needing to breathe.” 

“You get tired or stuck somewhere, call me. I packed in a wheelchair this morning just in case,” Shane was clearly not buying the walking idea, but respected Ryan’s space enough to not say anything about it. Ryan wasn’t sure if the command had been directed at him, or Curly, or the both of them simultaneously. 

Ryan gave him a big thumbs up before tapping Curly with the edge of the cane. “Come on, you. You’ve obviously got nothing better to do than walk around with me.”

Curly fretted over Ryan’s first ten steps before he realized that Ryan, while a little weak, was obviously fine and relaxed. Once they had rounded the corner, Ryan asked quietly, “What if he’s not interested in me like that or he doesn’t want to do that?”

“OH, so we DO get to talk about this. Excellent,” Curly started walking backwards so that he could face Ryan. “What makes you think that he’s not interested? The looks he gives you scream interested.”

“Well, I mean, he’s sweet, but he doesn’t flirt back outside of, like, our normal bits? So, I am starting to think that maybe he just wants to be friends, and that I should respect that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe he’s more of a nonverbal flirt?”

“Shane? Non-verbal? Hah.” Ryan rolled his eyes so hard he almost stumbled.

“I’m serious. He gives you plenty of very significant looks. There’s obviously a lot going on in his head, and you might be having a forest through the trees moment, you know? Talk me through a day in the life of Ryan and Shane. Shane and Ryan. The Ghoul Boys.”

Ryan trusted Curly to be honest with him, so he didn’t hesitate to tell him how their days normally went. Curly only seemed to get more delighted with each tidbit. “Oh, honey, you’re an _idiot._ ”

“What?!” Ryan floundered, very much not expecting that to come out of his friends mouth. 

“He packs your lunch, cooks you dinner, tucks you into bed, reads to you out of his books, and you’re still not convinced?”

“I thought maybe he was doing it in a ‘very close friend’ kind of way…” Ryan tried to defend himself, which only made Curly cackle more. 

“You sound like an oblivious stereotype. He’s into you. He’s basically dedicated his life to taking care of your dumbass. Go get that dick. Report back how it goes.”

Ryan was already tired, and they had only crossed about half of the buzzfeed office. “Alright, but what if we aren’t, like, compatible? I don’t mind, you know,” Ryan tried to think of a gesture that would convey what he meant before blushing and just using words, “...topping… but I think with him I would rather, um. And you said that he takes care of me all the time; what if he just doesn’t want to…” 

Curly tutted at him, trying to cover a chuckle at Ryan’s flustered stuttering. “Two seconds ago, you were worried about him being not into you, and now you’re worried about whether he’s gonna want to top? I think that you’re just trying to freak yourself out so that you don’t have to talk to him. Anyway, you just got done telling me how he picks out your clothes, packs your lunch, and generally dotes on you, which could be, like, so kinky. More kinky than you have a right to be doing when you’re this emotionally constipated.”

Curly pulled out his phone, typed something, then continued. “I have eyes; I’ve seen the way he gets when someone else is signing your brace, or before this mess, touching you or, worse, flirting with you. He was possessive. Not in a bad way, just in a noticeable way. Bless his heart, I have watched him get embarrassed by his own feelings. Put me out of my misery. Talk to him. You’re gonna send me to an early grave.” 

Before Ryan could respond to, or even process any of that, Shane was rounding the corner pushing a wheelchair. Ryan had forgotten how easy it was to spot him lumbering around the office. He was a good head taller than most of the staff. His eyes finally landed on Curly and Ryan, full of concern. “Jesus, Ryan, you’re sweating and flushed. Sit! Sit,” he fretted. Ryan _was_ both of those things, but it probably wasn’t from over exertion. 

Ryan glared at Curly, realizing that they had basically walked to Curly’s desk when Curly must have texted Shane to get Ryan. Ryan was about to tell Shane he was fine when he heard him mutter, “I will take you back home, you know. You need the rest. Don’t make me fuckin, I don’t know, tie you down…”

Ryan blushed, realizing, finally, that Curly was probably right. Curly winked, as if he had heard it all, including Ryan’s thoughts. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ryan resolved that he would talk to Shane. He really would. He just… had to make sure the feelings weren’t just stemming from a lack of long term sexual activity. He had extensively googled it (or at least skimmed a couple of articles on his phone on the way back home) and people thought they had feelings when they were horny and cared for all the time. 

His opportunity showed up the next day when Shane got called in for some meeting he couldn’t miss, and Ryan mentioned that he had felt a little overwhelmed and wanted some quiet time at home to rest. Shane had been hesitant to leave, but as soon as Ryan said, “rest,” he looked sold. He told Ryan he’d dip out early if he could, ran down the list of meal options in their fridge, and then squeezed Ryan’s shoulder before heading out.

Almost as soon as the door closed, Ryan was scrambling, as best he could, off the couch and back into their bedroom. Shane had made the bed before he left, something he tended to find time to do even on the busiest days. Ryan turned down the comforter, not because he was anticipating getting messy, but just in case. It would be hard to explain lube stains, and Ryan didn’t have easy access to a washer or dryer. As gross as it was, it would be easier to wait for Shane to change the sheets at the end of the week than to worry about the comforter itself. 

Ryan grabbed a towel out of the bathroom, spreading it out on the bed before grabbing his toy box from where it was tucked away in the back corner of the closet. He didn’t have many: he hadn’t really thought about using toys until he started working at Buzzfeed and learned about them through watching various videos be put together, but at this point he had a few favorites to use. 

Once he got naked and settled on the towel on the bed, making sure that his leg was still propped up, he tried to decide which toy was the winner of the day.

Ryan liked to push his own limits: how long he could hold off his orgasm (a longer time than you would think), how many he could have in a row (Ryan considered himself blessed), or how much pain he could take before he wouldn’t be able to have an orgasm at all (again, more than you would think).

His favorite way to get off was by stuffing himself with a butt plug and then slowly stroking himself to the edge a couple of times before treating himself. At first, Ryan considered doing that today, but then he remembered that he was going to have to do all the work with his left hand: working himself open and getting the plug in and out. Ryan tried to roll in a way that would be conducive to that plan and knew immediately that he wouldn’t have the strength to hold himself up to remove the plug after the kind of orgasm he wanted.

As Ryan dug through his box, he wondered what would happen if he had chosen to go that route. He could imagine working himself up all day without taking out the plug, becoming a desperate, whiny mess in their bed, and basically obliterating the sheets. When Shane came home and found him that way, Ryan wondered if he would scold him for being so careless with his injuries in that same babying voice he used on location before helping Ryan remove the plug and cleaning up. He fantasized Shane finding him that way, and instead of helping him remove it, working him up more. Maybe he would set a time for Ryan to reach the edge in the same spirit that he kept time when Ryan had to lock himself in a scary room. Shane would set the timer and begin to tease Ryan, working the plug in and out of him while touching him everywhere but his aching cock with his big, soft hands until the timer was up and he…

Ryan shook the fantasy out of his mind. He was supposed to be getting off to see if it got rid of thoughts of Shane, not using a fantasy about him to get off. Ryan moved his plugs out of the way and grabbed his prostate massager. It had a base that pressed up against the underside of his balls that Ryan knew he would be able to use to pull it back out of him when he was done. 

Ryan coated the fingers of his left hand with lube, not getting as much as he would like, but also not caring. He relaxed into working himself open. He was thankful that the prostate massager was thin. He wasn’t very good at using his left hand. It felt so foreign to him. He wished his hands were a little larger. His mind wandered to someone else’s hands opening him up: long, deft fingers spreading him open, teasing his prostate without mercy, a soft tenor voice shushing his whines and begs for more, telling him to be grateful for what he was getting…

With a moan, Ryan realized that he had worked himself up to four fingers and was thinking about Shane… again. He knew that somewhere in his brain he had other fantasies with other people… right? All of his fantasies hadn’t changed to Shane, had they?

Ryan quickly lubed up the massager, turning it onto the lowest pulse and shivering as it settled into place. It was going to be a struggle to last very long after a couple of months of no touch at all, so Ryan tried to focus on drawing it out. For the first couple of minutes, he just enjoyed rolling his hips, feeling the massager shift in just the right places like a tease. He was fully hard, leaking pre-cum on what abs he had left after months of minimal working out, and generally enjoying himself.

His thoughts slipped back to Shane, and this time Ryan decided to roll with it. If you can’t beat him… them, better to join them, right?

He hadn’t ever seen Shane fully naked. Even on shoots over the years, Shane had a combination of luck and skill at keeping himself clothed from the waist down. However, Shane had alluded to his size multiple times, and clothes could only cover so much. Ryan knew that Shane was bigger than average to say the least. He realized he was almost drooling with a flush and some embarrassment. He hadn’t ever considered himself a size queen, but he felt like it now. 

Shane wasn’t as gym strong as Ryan was, and his muscles weren’t as pronounced, but they were there. Shane couldn’t help that he was so lanky, and that alone masked most of his muscle definition making it hard to tell what he was capable of. However, just from play fighting over the remote or food or on set, Ryan knew that Shane could loom over him and hold him down and fully surround him. Ryan imagined him holding Ryan’s wrists above his head, kissing and biting down Ryan’s biceps and chest, and slowly working himself into Ryan. Ryan imagined having no way to touch himself, fully relying on the slide of Shane’s cock for pleasure, while Shane told him how pretty he looked and how he would be taken care of.

Ryan cried out as his orgasm crested, feeling his own cum land on his chest and one aggressive spurt hitting him in the chin. He quickly reached down to fumble the vibrations off before flopping his head back to enjoy the afterglow. The orgasm had snuck up on him, holding him hostage to the way his body was clenching until he could catch his breath. He wasn’t normally a cuddler, but in that moment, he wished that Shane was there to help him clean up: take him to the shower, hold him up under the spray without the braces or any swim clothes, just to wash Ryan down and let Ryan see him and touch him.

He worked the massager back out, surprisingly sad to be empty, and flung his leg over the bed to get cleaned up himself. Ryan realized as he was cleaning up that he was doing so to Shane’s cleaning standards: tossing the towel in the hamper in the bathroom specifically for linens and towels, using a wet washcloth to clean himself off before tossing it in the hamper too, and re-making the bed to the Home and Garden standard that it had been at that morning. 

Ryan realized as he was doing this that it wasn’t even his comforter on the bed. Shane had brought that one from home. Shane had brought a really cool art piece that hung above the bed since all Ryan had were movie posters in shitty poster frames that he had shoved in the back of his closet and kept promising himself he would eventually hang. Shane’s night stand and dresser had made their way into their, well, Ryan’s room so that he would no longer have to live out of his suitcase. The bathroom was full of his towels and toiletries.

Ryan felt his stomach do weird flip flops as he made his way through the apartment, noting all the ways that Shane had genuinely improved the life he was living: soft comforts, art pieces, adult cooking utensils, and even fridge magnets. The apartment looked gorgeous, and felt like home. Ryan couldn’t imagine it going back to the way it was before, and yet even then, Ryan was standing on his own feet, without his cane. He was healing faster than the doctors had imagined he would, which meant that Shane would also be _leaving_ faster than he imagined. 

What would happen to this home that they had built? Would Shane just take his stuff and go? Were they supposed to just go back to how they were before? Was that even possible?

The panic attack had snuck up on Ryan, and he couldn’t stop the spiral once it had started. While he recognized that the drop was from his endorphins wearing off, he couldn’t reason his brain out of the sobbing that he was doing suddenly. Of course, that was the moment that Shane chose to walk back in the door.

“Oh, honey, I’m ho…” Shane didn’t even finish the bit, hearing Ryan’s sobs and rushing in. “Woah, bud, what’s going on? What happened?”

Ryan couldn’t sort through the thoughts in his head and knew that the words that were coming out of his mouth were mostly incoherent. Shane crouched down beside where he was sitting on the couch. “I need you to breathe with me, Ry,” Shane said, placing Ryan’s hand on his chest where he could feel it rise and fall, “In for 8 and out for 8. Ready?”

Normally, that would have absolutely calmed Ryan down, but Ryan just sobbed harder thinking of how he was going to have to go back to breathing on his own soon. Shane must have realized that his strategy was failing, but he didn’t pull away from where Ryan had an iron grip on his shirt. He pulled what looked like a bandana out of his back pocket and set to work cleaning off Ryan’s face. 

It took Ryan a moment to hear the soft noises, little hums and coos, that Shane was making to help calm him down until Shane had shifted them so that he could slide in behind Ryan on the couch, and even then Ryan heard them more as rumbles from Shane’s chest. It was soothing in it’s own way. As Ryan felt his breathing get more manageable, he realized that the orgasm he had might have taken more out of him than he thought. He felt so tired. 

Shane tried again, “You want to talk about it, or do you want to take a nap?”

His voice was non-judgemental. Ryan knew he wouldn’t push him to talk and wouldn’t tease him for a nap. “Just… want this place to feel like home,” he finally got out. 

Shane seemed to freeze. “This is your apartment, Ry. It is your home.”

“I don’t want to be alone. I need to feel like I’m home. This is all your stuff, and I am gonna lose my home,” Ryan tried to clarify, knowing he was only making Shane feel guilty, but not able to get the words out to make either of them feel better. His eyes were drooping. He was going to be asleep whether he wanted to or not. 

Shane worked his phone out of his pocket and started typing something in. “Sleep, Ry. We can talk more when you wake up.”


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan woke up in his bed, alone, to soft music and light coming from the hallway to the kitchen, which was weird since he was sure that he fell asleep with Shane on the couch in the living room. Weirder was the fact that there was more than one voice pouring in from the kitchen: multiple voices in cadences that were so familiar to Ryan, yet he couldn’t place them in this setting. Ryan stretched before creeping down the hallway to see what the noise was. 

He almost cried when he saw the scene laid out in front of him: Shane in a too-small apron surrounded by Ryan’s mom, two of his aunts, and two of his little cousins toddling around in the living room. Ryan had gotten his height from his dad, so Shane was at least two heads taller than everyone else there, but it was obvious from the hunch in his back that he had been stooping down out of a sign of respect to the women in the room. The kitchen smelled like his parent’s house: a blend of spices that lent warmth to the room. 

As soon as one of his aunts noticed him, he was mobbed by the women he loved, receiving hugs and kisses, letting them fret over him speaking in rapid fire english and spanish, chiding him for not calling home or coming home or getting help for his home sooner. They fussed him onto a chair at the edge of the kitchen, using the other chair to prop up his leg even though he tried to explain that he didn’t really have to do that anymore. 

Ryan’s mom put Ryan in charge of supervising the little ones while everyone else bustled about the room getting some sort of meal together. Ryan could tell from the tallest pot on the stove that there were tomales at least, and Ryan assumed that his other favorites were bubbling away on the stove and in the oven. They were even frying fresh tortillas and someone had made horchata, which Ryan requested a glass of immediately after spotting it. Shane brought it over to where he was sitting, crouching down and whispering, “How you feeling now?”

Ryan’s heart felt as if it could burst. Instead of answering that or saying anything incriminating when he knew that his family was only pretending to chat so that they could eavesdrop, he asked a counter-question, “You did this?”

Shane blushed prettily, but his soft smile covered up his embarrassment. “Yeah. I’ve been calling and texting your mom updates after appointments anyways, so when you were talking about not feeling at home, I figured I could call in the big gun. Or, guns, your mom kind of brought your aunts and all the stuff to make the food on her own. I hope that’s alright? It’s not too much?”

Ryan could see his family making the physical version of heart eyes at them from behind Shane’s back. Ryan’s aunt went as far as to wink at Ryan, shameless about being caught staring. “Nah, this is perfect. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

Shane didn’t respond with words, just a quick grip to Ryan’s shoulder of acknowledgement before turning back and asking about the next step in a recipe. The ladies surrounded him, bumping their hips into his thigh to include him in their cooking antics. Ryan just sat back and observed for awhile, enjoying the way Shane was starting to blend seamlessly into his family life as well as his work and personal life. 

One of his cousins toddled over to where he was, wanting up on his lap. Before Ryan could lift him, his aunt was coming over to shoo him back into the other room to go back to playing. She came back over to Ryan after he was settled in, squeezing his shoulders almost to the point of discomfort before letting go. She smiled down at Ryan.

“So, were you going to tell us you had a boyfriend?” she whispered, gesturing to Shane. Even with Shane preoccupied at the stove, Ryan was nervous talking about him with that title. 

“We aren’t dating. We’re… just friends,” Ryan tried to whisper back, but the look from his aunt spoke volumes about how much she believed him. 

“Well, if you’re ‘just friends,’ you should probably tell him that. Break his heart gently. It’ll break your mom’s heart, too. Look at how much she already likes him. She’s planning the wedding already,” she kept escalating the conversation and the volume, Ryan’s guilt compounding as he tried to get her to be a little quieter. She relented after a significant look from her sister. “You’re interested in him. He’s interested in you. You’ve got our support. Don’t overthink this one.” 

Before he could respond, try to convey his doubts, she was already jumping back into the bustle of the kitchen. It didn’t take much longer for the food to be done. Shane relocated Ryan to the living room where they ate on coffee tables, TV trays, and the main table pushed into the living room. The conversation flowed smoothly, Shane starting to fall into the joking and gossiping that made up most of his family dinners. 

The food alone filled a spot in Ryan’s soul that he hadn’t realized he was missing, but seeing Shane in this light really solidified the idea that they needed to talk about the future. Ryan had almost lost his composure when he had come back from the bathroom to see Shane holding his baby cousins, one on each hip, while talking to his family, laughing, the lines crinkling around his bright eyes. It was torture not to stare when he let them climb onto his shoulders before he stood up, letting them cackle about being so high off the ground. 

After the food had been cleared away, Shane carried over some wrapped presents and handed them to Ryan with little fanfare. There were two large multi-photo frames with pictures of Ryan’s family and extended family, Ryan’s favorite throw from his parent’s house, and a window garden box with what looked like spices growing in it. His family had brought him little touches of home. Ryan denied that he was crying, but his mom squeezed him a little tighter into her hug anyways. 

As the sun was setting, Ryan’s family started to gather their stuff to leave, giving both Ryan and Shane hugs and kisses. Ryan’s mom promised that she would send Shane some recipes, but he had to “promise to make Ryan into an honest man.” Both of them ended up laughing, sharing an intimate glance, and blushing. Ryan knew that he would be the topic of the family grapevine for weeks to come. 

Shane and Ryan settled back in on the couch. “Your family is delightful,” Shane said after they had briefly enjoyed the silence. Ryan hummed to agree.

“Can I tell you something?” Shane continued, squirrely in how he was shifting around on the couch. 

“I don’t think I have ever been able to stop you,” Ryan started to joke before he finally made eye contact with him and realized that Shane looked nervous. “Always, dude. What’s up?”

Shane flinched at the nickname, but seemed to steel himself and press on. “I feel like I’ve been a little… disingenuous. And I didn’t realize until this afternoon how much that could end up hurting in the long run.”

Ryan’s stomach flipped uncomfortably. Worry shot through his brain, but he decided to let Shane finish before letting his heart break. 

“You told me in the hospital that you ‘really like me,’ and I responded that I really liked you, but I’ve been worrying that I meant that I really like you in, like, a boyfriend way when you meant you really liked me in a ‘bro-y’ kind of way, and now I’ve gotten to know your family and have brought all my stuff here and kind of just made myself at home, but, now it’s feeling like my home, too, more-so than even my apartment does, and if you’re not interested in more or not interested in me then we have to come up with an exit strategy. Cause I refuse to lose our…”

Ryan had never thought that Shane would make the first move, but now that he had, Ryan had to stop his rambling. Ryan pushed off the couch with his good hand, shutting Shane up with a kiss. It took Shane a moment to get with the program, but then he started kissing Ryan back, going so far as to take over the kiss. Ryan heard him mumble, “Oh, thank God,” between kisses. 

When they finally pulled apart to catch their breath, Ryan wheezed, “I was so afraid I had given you, like, Stockholm’s or some shit like that, or that I had misread everything.”

Shane rolled his eyes, “That’s not even what Stockholm’s is, and I only didn’t make a move sooner because I was worried that the anesthesia was clouding your judgement.”

Ryan leaned into Shane’s side, indulging in his smell and closeness. “I’m glad you made a move now,” he whispered. 

Shane gently kissed the top of his head. “I think your mom would have had my ass had I not.” 

“She likes you,” Ryan giggled, not denying that his mom could be a little feisty. 

He could feel Shane smile, “What’s not to like? I’m a catch. I’m every mom’s dream for their child. I’ll woo the pants off of the whole family.”

“Please don’t ‘woo’ any of my other family members,” Ryan joked. 

“Well, I mean, if they’re as hot as you, how could I help myself?”

“You’re a dork. Why did we stop kissing again?”

Shane tipped Ryan’s chin up by his jaw, making Ryan gasp a little before Shane swallowed it in another searing kiss. Shane turned his body to be able to face Ryan on the couch, making the angle of the kiss a little easier on Ryan. It didn’t take long for the kiss to pick up a little more heat, and Shane pulled away, again, much to Ryan’s chagrin.

“God, are you trying to be a tease?” Ryan whined into the air where Shane had been only moments before. 

Shane chuckled, “Maybe, but I’m mainly just stopping since you haven’t been cleared for rigorous physical activity yet.”

“I had an orgasm this morning and felt fine! Better than before! I’ll be fine with a little making out…” Ryan tried to protest by pulling Shane back in. Shane’s eyes did something funny and dark at Ryan’s admission. 

Ryan found his shoulder pinned to the couch, Shane’s weight keeping him from being able to move. “Ryan, Ryan. You know better than to not follow the doctor’s orders. What a naughty boy,” Shane’s lilt was dangerous, tipped a little lower than normal. 

Ryan choked on his response. Shane smirked, continuing, “We won’t do anything until we have at least had a chance to talk through some logistics and what you like. You could tell me, now, or we could wait till later. Regardless, as much as I might want to, I’m not touching you until you get specific clearance from the doctor. I was wondering why the bedroom smelled like lube and sex. For _shame_.”

“I was just trying to make sure that how horny I was wasn’t influencing my feelings,” Ryan found himself whining, something he wasn’t prone to do but seemed to just make Shane’s eyes darker. “I just ended up thinking about you, and how it would have been _so much better_ if you were there with me.”

“Tell me,” Shane leaned back, one hand supporting the back of his head where he was looking toward Ryan, the other going down suspiciously close to the waistband of his chinos. Ryan licked his lips as he tracked the movement of his hand. 

Ryan spilled his afternoon fantasies to Shane, occasionally awarded with a smoldering look or a groan falling from Shane’s lips. He looked like he was just barely holding back from palming himself through his clothes, and Ryan, as turned on as he was, took that as a sign that he wasn’t supposed to touch himself either. 

Ryan almost felt as though he could have an orgasm just from this; filth spilling from his mouth and the sight of Shane one snap from taking him apart, doctors orders be damned. Finally, Shane cut him off with a kiss, more chaste than Ryan had been hoping for.

“I could listen to you tell me your dirtiest fantasies all day, but I meant what I said about the doctor. I promise I will take care of you as soon as we get the go ahead, but until then, I think we should wait. Can you be patient and wait for me Ryan?” Shane’s smirk made Ryan feel like this was a loaded question. 

Ryan gulped before asking a follow up, “What exactly does waiting entail?” 

Shane’s smirk blossomed into a smile, “What a smart boy you are,” he cooed, letting his hand fall to Ryan’s waist, rubbing distracting circles into his hipbone so close to where Ryan actually wanted it. “Waiting means no touching other than to clean yourself. No playing alone.”

Ryan groaned as Shane peppered his neck and jaw with kisses and small bites. “Kinky! But… but we don’t, ah, know how long until I will be cleared,” Ryan tried, seeing if he could reason with Shane as Shane worried a spot that would be _just_ hidden by Ryan’s collared shirts. 

Shane slowed down, leaning up to make eye contact with Ryan, worry obvious on his features, “If that’s alright. Did I misread the situation? Was that too much?”

Ryan couldn’t help but giggle at the picture he made, eyes bunched up in concern but hair sticking out in every direction and lips red from kissing. “No, it was perfect. A line right out of my wet dreams. I’m so into it and into you. We can iron out the details while we are waiting for the doctor to clear me, and I can pray that she does it soon.” Shane relaxed back to where he was kissing Ryan’s neck, “So kissing is, OHhh, is fine?” 

Shane kissed back up to Ryan’s lips before pulling away, “Kissing like this,” he placed a sweet, chaste kiss on Ryan’s lips, then his cheek, then his forehead, “Is absolutely fine and no cost. Kisses like this,” Shane licked back into his mouth, all of the sudden dirty and aggressive and dizzyingly good at that. Ryan had almost forgotten Shane hadn’t finished his sentence until he leaned back to do so. “Those will cost you.”

“What’s the price?” Ryan panted, catching his breath and trying to close his legs where they had been splayed open on the couch.

Shane leaned back, letting Ryan get comfortable. “A small price, I think. You have to tell me one of your fantasies. The filthier the fantasy, the filthier the kiss.”

Ryan groaned, feeling his dick twitch in interest and knowing that he had just agreed to not do anything about it. It was going to feel like a long time until the doctor approved “activity” regardless of how much time actually passed, Ryan could feel.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a frustrating two more weeks before Ryan got desperate enough to ask his doctor if he could increase his physical activity. 

It had been fun to talk to Shane about their various “kinks,” if you could call them that. Shane was possessive and his reflected that. He took good care of the things and people that were “his” and this especially applied for Ryan. Ryan had found out just how much Shane liked picking out his clothes and making food for him and helping him shower when he asked for it. Ryan couldn’t tell if it was the chastity or being taken care of that made him so horny all the time, but he was just as into it as Shane when he found out it was a thing.

Shane, for his part, took like a duck to water to living into Ryan’s fantasies. He was a little more intentionally teasing and aggressive when it came to getting Ryan riled up. He always asked in the morning how Ryan was doing, being sure to only push Ryan to the point he set for the day. He was more touchy throughout the day, even in public which made Ryan smile. 

Outside of all the teasing, Shane really lived into the sweet boyfriend role, and it was not much different than what he had been doing, except with more flowers and dates out of the house. All of which had been fun and sweet, but Ryan felt like he was dying everytime Shane had reminded him they were waiting before they climbed in bed. He knew that something had to give when he woke up practically humping Shane’s thigh after a particularly vivid wet dream. Shane had tutted and stilled his hips, reminding him that he had a doctors appointment that day. Ryan had taken the most thorough shower of his life, hoping that maybe today he would be getting laid. 

Ryan had gotten through the initial questions about his well being and range of motion tests before he ended up blurting out questions. The doctor had, at first, explained to Ryan the types of exercise he could do at his healing point. Ryan had flushed and fumbled through an explanation that he meant sex, not exercise. His doctor had burst into laughter. She explained that his fracture was far enough along in the healing process at that point that he could do whatever he wanted as long as it didn’t jostle either his leg or his wrist. Ryan accidentally called it a Christmas miracle which only made her laugh more. 

Shane was so into whatever he had been reading in the waiting room that he didn’t notice Ryan until Ryan was tapping him on the shoulder excitedly. He bookmarked the page, walking Ryan out to the car with a hand splayed across his lower back. Ryan was practically vibrating until they got into the car, and before Shane could ask, Ryan was almost screaming, “I was cleared. As long as I don’t put to much pressure on either injury, we can do whatever we want!” 

Shane leaned over and kissed Ryan, slowly but thoroughly and with intent that Ryan almost didn’t want to wait until they got home to explore. He also knew that Shane would make him wait regardless, so he didn’t even bring it up. The ride back passed quickly, Ryan’s mind racing through the possibilities that might await him at home and Shane having a bit of a lead foot influenced by the sexual tension in the car. 

They had barely gotten in the door when Ryan pulled Shane against him by his shirt. Shane didn’t bend down to meet Ryan, so Ryan leaned into his neck, kissing and biting to try to get Shane’s attention. Shane chuckled darkly finally ducking down to kiss Ryan and back him up against the door. He managed to work one of his long legs up against where Ryan had felt he had been hard for years now, causing Ryan to groan into the kiss. 

“Lord, Ry, you’re desperate for it. I bet you could get off right here if I told you to. I could pin your good wrist up here,” Shane followed through as he said the words, pinning Ryan’s wrist against the door above his head, “and I could just tell you how pretty you looked, humping against me like that.”

Ryan moaned and ground up against Shane’s leg harder, embarrassment only serving to make him more horny. Shane nipped at his ear, “But I know you, Ry. You’d rather get off on my cock, wouldn’t you? You want to take it deep, want me to take you apart.” 

Ryan whined as Shane pulled his thigh away, taking away all the friction Ryan could get right before he could get close to cumming in his pants. Shane kissed him, lowering his wrist back down before pulling him away from the door. “I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time,” he admitted as he tugged Ryan into the bedroom. Ryan wanted to say, “no shit,” but was distracted by Shane tugging Ryan’s shirt over his head. 

The way Shane undressed him could only be described as lovingly, although Ryan knew it was too early for words like that. Maybe intimately was a safer choice. Regardless of the words, Shane took his time taking each article of clothing off of Ryan and putting it into their hampers. “I’ll need to put those back on at some point,” Ryan stated. 

Shane smirked, “Will you? I promised to take care of you, I never said I would be quick about it.”

Ryan groaned, about to fall dramatically back onto the bed before realizing that he would miss out on Shane stripping. He glanced over just as Shane was pulling off his shirt. “You’re gorgeous,” Ryan complimented from his spot on the bed. 

Shane leaned over to give him a quick kiss, having promised Ryan that he would knock off any self-deprecating comments. He pulled off his pants next, then started carefully moving Ryan around on the bed. “Wait, wait,” Ryan protested, “Why are you leaving these on?” 

Ryan pulled on the waistband of Shane’s black briefs. Shane removed Ryan’s hand and continued moving him on the bed. Gently, he flipped him over onto his stomach. “You lack discipline and patience, Ry. I want to focus on you, and I don’t want you to be too distracted by my dick.”

Before Ryan could protest that, Shane started kissing down his back, stopping in a couple of places to suck bruises into Ryan’s skin, gently working him down until he was relaxed fully onto the bed. Ryan heard a cap pop and tensed. Before he had a chance to worry, Shane was talking to him again, “As much as I can visually appreciate all the muscles in your body flexing, you can relax. I’m just warming up some lotion to rub your back. I am hoping to get all the tension out of you by the end of the night.”

Ryan hummed a response that turned into a soft gasp as Shane’s hands started pressing into tense places across Ryan’s shoulders and lower back. Ryan didn’t remember him doing a video on massage technique, but he must have been taking classes or something. The pressure and weight of his hands changed perfectly as he moved from Ryan’s upper to lower back and then back up to his neck. Distantly, Ryan could hear something whining in the bedroom. It took him another moment to realize that the whining was coming from him. 

Shane worked his hands lower, squeezing Ryan’s ass a little before massaging around his tailbone and sides. As he slowly worked his way lower to the globes of Ryan’s ass and thighs, Ryan felt as if he had melted into their comforter. Ryan almost didn’t notice that Shane had shifted down the bed until he felt a breath across his tailbone. 

“Oh, FU-,” was all Ryan got out as Shane licked a hot stripe across his hole, “Shane, oh, my go-ahhhd.”

Shane hummed from where he was causing Ryan to shiver. Ryan had never imagined what this would feel like, couldn’t have imagined that he would be so sensitive. Everytime Shane pulled him up closer, Ryan’s dick brushed against the duvet, making him confused about whether he wanted to press back into Shane’s mouth or hump forward into the bedsheet. Ryan twitched his hips forward to get more contact, but Shane stopped him, working one of his hands flat against Ryan’s abdomen to hold him in place so he couldn’t pull away. 

Ryan was going to blame the chastity for how close he was to losing his shit. He panted out, “Shane, if you don’t stop I’m gonna… I can’t…”

Shane chuckled, and before Ryan could ask why, he had worked his tongue past the ring of muscle, causing the sensations Ryan was feeling to escalate. Ryan knew at this point he was babbling, but couldn’t bring himself to care, especially when Shane skillfully found his prostate and flicked his tongue over it until Ryan couldn’t think at all. Ryan was right on the edge; his whole vocabulary a litany of Shane’s name as he fisted the sheet with his good hand.

He let out a low whine and a quiet, “Shane, please,” when he felt Shane’s mouth draw away from him. Shane kissed the back of his thigh and shushed him. 

“You’re so needy and desperate for it, Ry. Look at you: falling apart like a little slut on my tongue. One touch would send you right over, wouldn’t it?” Shane teased, obviously pleased with the flush he had caused all over Ryan’s back and face from his words. 

Ryan hadn’t heard the lube opening this time, so he jumped a little when Shane began to work his first finger into Ryan. Ryan relaxed back into the bed, Shane pressing down on his lower back until Ryan was flat against the sheets. The angle made Shane’s finger feel huge, or, Ryan tried to reason, maybe Shane’s hands were just that large. Ryan wondered momentarily how many fingers Shane would need to work into him to prepare Ryan to take his cock.

Shane’s laugh was what cued Ryan into the fact that he was still babbling. “Ryan, who knew you were such a size queen!” 

Ryan would have responded to the jab had Shane not taken that moment to work a second finger into Ryan, pushing the air out of his lungs in a sigh. “Fuck, Ry, you open up so beautifully,” Shane sounded wrecked, even with all his teasing. When Ryan looked over his shoulder, he made sure to commit the sight to memory: Shane, red lipped and flushed lounging on his knees between Ryan’s legs, watching intently as he split Ryan’s hole open with two fingers.

He smiled, too soft for his actions, when he caught Ryan looking. “You’re beautiful, Ry-guy. In every moment, including this one.”

Ryan tried to clear his throat and his head, “M’ ready, please, Shane. Don’t want to wait anymore.” Ryan tried to punctuate his point by thrusting back to meet Shane’s fingers, earning him a light tap on the ass from Shane.

“One more finger. I promise, you’ll need it,” Shane promised darkly. Ryan gasped out as the last finger found a home inside him right up against his prostate, which Ryan had begun to think Shane was avoiding on purpose. “Tell me how it feels,” he commanded as he began to rub against it mercilessly. 

Ryan could feel himself dripping pre-cum, smearing it all over himself and the sheets, but the friction was only enough to be a tease. Ryan’s center of pleasure was right at the tips of Shane’s fingers, buried inside him. Ryan almost thought he could cum from that alone, and told Shane as much. Shane bit back a groan by biting a spot right above Ryan’s tailbone.

Ryan pushed himself up on his good arm when Shane slowly removed his fingers. After a moment of panting, Ryan pushed himself up on his forearm, careful to keep his brace resting above his head. “Not to make your head ANY larger than it is already, but I’m not gonna last if you keep teasing me like that.”

Shane helped pull Ryan to his feet off the edge of the bed. As Shane was moving them over to a sturdy chair that he had covered in a blanket, he smirked. “From what you’ve told me, you can last exactly how long I would like you to last. That’s what’s important, right? You want me to tell you how long you have to wait. You want to earn it, because you know it will feel _so much better_ if you have to work for it.”

He pulled off his briefs without fanfare, sitting down on the chair and gesturing Ryan forward. Ryan knew he had a nice dick. It was a little thicker than some, and large enough. He never had any complaints. But Shane hadn’t really been joking when he alluded to how large he was. Ryan watched, rapt, as Shane slid a condom on. Shane’s hands had a tendency to make the things in them look small, and it was a testament to just how much he was working with that he had so much more than a handful. 

Ryan realized he was frozen in place, staring at Shane’s dick for a moment too long when Shane coughed to draw his attention back up to his face. Ryan’s eyes snapped up to meet his, and he wondered if he would just be stuck with a permanent blush from that day on. “You gonna come over here?” Shane asked softly, almost hesitant. “We don’t have to, you know? We can go back to what we were already doing.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, appreciating how sweet the offer was but knowing that his silence had been misread. “No, babe, I was just trying to decide logistically how long it is going to take before I could drop to my knees and blow you.”

Shane’s eyes grew wide with want, the smile blossoming back on his features. “We will see what we can work into the next few weeks. For now, I’d much rather have you on my lap.”

Ryan moved as best he could to get on top of Shane. There was some awkward pauses and laughter as they figured out how to rest Ryan’s brace on one side of Shane so that Ryan could straddle him, but once they had that figured out, Ryan could feel Shane lining up with his entrance. “Tell me when you’re ready for me to move, Ry.”

Ryan tried his best to slide down and impale himself on Shane instead of answering out loud, but the way Shane was leaned back in the chair taking most of their weight and his grip on Ryan’s thighs to hold him open gave him the power to control both of their movements. Ryan, realizing that he was at Shane’s mercy, switched tactics. He kissed along Shane’s jaw, leaving little bites down his neck and the hollow of his collarbone, interspersed with affirmations that he wanted Shane to fuck him and was ready for Shane’s cock. 

Finally, Ryan felt Shane push against him before sliding in. Ryan let his head fall into the hollow of Shane’s neck as he tried to adjust. Shane was bigger than anything Ryan had ever taken, and Ryan could tell that he would fall apart the moment Shane bottomed out regardless of any other stimulus. Shane also looked wrecked as he waited for Ryan to give the go ahead to move.

When he did start moving, Ryan was sure that he would be feeling this for days after every time he sat down. Shane was muttering filth and gripping bruises around Ryan’s thighs as he set a torturously slow pace. “Fuck, Ry. Not gonna… ah, fuck, you’re so tight. Fuck.”

Ryan would have made a joke about Shane’s limited vocabulary if he himself hadn’t felt as if he was never going to be able to string another sentence together again. As it was, Shane had started to brush against his prostate with each slide in and out, and Ryan could only articulate punched out whines and moans. 

“Close, Shane!” Ryan finally shouted after a particularly good thrust. He didn’t even have Shane all the way inside him yet, and he wanted so badly to hold out until he did. 

Shane kissed Ryan’s forehead, speeding up just enough to work a little more of himself inside. “Come on, Ry. You earned this one. Do you need me to touch you?”

At that moment, Shane finally bottomed out. Ryan’s dick brushed against Shane’s abdomen, and Ryan squeezed Shane’s shoulder and cried out as he came. He could feel Shane’s groan in response as Ryan tightened around him in the aftershocks of his orgasm. It was very few more thrusts before Shane slammed into Ryan and held him still on his lap, head tipping back in bliss. 

They stayed like that: Ryan resting his head against Shane’s chest and Shane resting his head against the back of the chair, panting. After a moment, Shane tipped Ryan up to kiss him. This kiss felt like a promise: we can take it slow, there’s more to come, and maybe some other words that Ryan felt but wasn’t ready to hear. Ryan groaned into the kiss as Shane lifted Ryan’s hip so that his spent cock could slip free. He was about to protest the loss when Shane shocked him by lifting him up as he stood and depositing him safely on the bed in one fluid movement.

“What the fuck?” Ryan sputtered, wishing he had been gripping Shane’s arms instead of around his neck so that he could have felt his muscles flex. He couldn’t believe that Shane had it in him to lift him.

Shane shrugged, padding over to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth. “I do occasionally work out. Maybe not as seriously as you, but I like to stay nimble.”

Ryan laid back and let Shane clean him up. “Well maybe here in a little while we can see how ‘nimble’ you really are?”

Shane scoffed, although the laughter in his eyes gave away the fondness in his heart. “You young people and your second rounds. Let’s have a nap and see where that takes us for now.”

Shane took the cloth back to the bathroom before laying back down in the bed beside Ryan. Ryan let himself be pulled against Shane, extremities rearranged so that they could cuddle until it was time to go to sleep. Ryan didn’t want to admit that the fucking had really taken a lot out of him, but he felt his eyes slipping closed after only a few minutes of silent breathing. He kissed Shane’s arm where he could reach it. “You promise you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Of course, Ry. As long as you’ll have me,” Shane whispered back. Ryan believed him, believed in all the promises they were starting to make, and fell asleep, content. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you're still here? Cool. Cool, cool. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. I've been thinking about a College AU for the boys if I write them again.
> 
> Sound off in the comments. I love to hear your thoughts. :)
> 
> Peace and Love


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